BOMELIO.
Diavolo? ah, fie! me no diavolo, me very fury.
Let-a me see your basket: what meat you buy?
LENTULO.
Look in my basket! O villain, rascal, tarry, stay!
Hath opened it? out alas! my love is quite flown away.
My love is gone, my love is gone out of the basket there,
Prepare therefore to kill thyself: farewell, my friends so dear.
BOMELIO.
Ah, vat-a you do, man?
LENTULO.
Uplandish, hence away.
BOMELIO.
Vat-a you do, man? no point yourself to slay.
Come de be hang-a.[114]
LENTULO.
Alas! O my neck, alas!
O frying-pan of my head! uplandish, now, cham worse than ever was.
Adieu! farewell, farewell, my love.
BOMELIO.
Your love? if you be in love, den do as I bid do,
And you shall 've[115] your love away wit' you, too.
LENTULO.
Uplandish, O my friend! if thou do so for me,
Hold here my hand: thy fellow, friend, and partner will I be.
BOMELIO.
Go you ten, and get-a me some fine, fine, fine colosse,
And wit' te marigol' leaf all-to mus your nose.
LENTULO.
Ah, my nose, my nose! O God, is my nose in my hand?
Uplandish, leave your signs; without them I can understand.